


there's a thin line between love and hate

by BestDeadFriendsForever



Series: One Messy Family [3]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, but it's okay because they work it out, d'Artagnan's just young, they're fighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-14 04:57:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10529400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BestDeadFriendsForever/pseuds/BestDeadFriendsForever
Summary: d'Artagnan and Athos have a late night heart-to-heart after Thomas is born.





	

d’Artagnan crossed his arms with a small smile as he watched Athos try to calm Thomas. Athos was frowning as he rocked and bounced the boy but he still let out whimpers and cries that were what brought d’Artagnan out to the kitchen in the first place.

His stomach twisted strangely and finally he pushed himself off the wall and moved so that he was standing behind Athos. “Let me take him,” he said and brushed his fingers over Athos’s arm. His chest felt tight as Athos looked at him, exhaustion clear in his face, before nodding.

“Here,” Athos said and carefully transferred Thomas into d’Artagnan’s arms. He brushed a hand over his son’s head and smiled tiredly at d’Artagnan. Athos settled into a chair as d’Artagnan rocked and hummed softly to Thomas. The boy quieted down though he wouldn’t drift to sleep.

“Stubborn, huh?” d’Artagnan asked the boy in a soft voice. “Well, you’ll have to sleep sometime.” He kissed the boy’s head before he realized what he was doing and stiffened as Athos’s eyes widened slightly. d’Artagnan sat and settled the boy’s cheek onto his shoulder so he could rub soothing circles into his back. Alexandra had kicked up a fuss at this age when it was bedtime too and that had always seemed to work.

“d’Artagnan-”

“Don’t,” d’Artagnan snapped and shook his head. “I don’t want to do this.”

“Nor do I,” Athos admitted and he twisted his hands into his nightshirt. He smoothed out the fabric as d’Artagnan took a deep breath. They sat in silence for a long time before d’Artagnan peered over at the small baby that already looked so much like his father. He noted the boy was asleep and shifted him so that he was once again settled into the crook of d’Artagnan’s elbow.

“I was so angry with you,” d’Artagnan started softly. “I wanted so badly to hate you, to rage and break things… but I love you, Athos. You and Constance and Aramis and Porthos and the children are my whole world.” He shook his head. “I love my children, and I know you love Raoul but for you, being with Sylvie, it wasn’t the same. You had to choose when it came to it. She didn’t want to stay with us, she didn’t understand.” The memories of Sylvie’s face when she’d stormed into the garrison and slapped him soundly across the face reverberated in his mind. She’d been angry when Athos had finally told her. She felt betrayed.

“But Constance is different,” Athos said and reached out tentatively to put his hand on d’Artagnan’s knee.

“Constance understands and she’s part of us. I’m  _ happy _ that she is, but… I’m- I don’t know. Maybe it’s jealousy, maybe it’s something else. All I know is that when I was gone for so long and I came back to her carrying your child, I saw red. I felt betrayed.” He frowned at that. “I don’t like the looks, or the whispers.”

“Nor do I, d’Artagnan. I wouldn’t wish this on her.”

“I’m not just talking about Constance. They talk about Thomas, about you. I hate it. At least Constance I can defend without raising suspicions.”

“Don’t worry about us. We’ll be alright.” Athos squeezed d’Artagnan’s knee and held out his arms for Thomas. d’Artagnan slid the baby into his father’s arms and smiled weakly at the sight as Athos stood and moved into the other room to tuck Thomas away into his crib. Athos returned and settled on the bench next to d’Artagnan, their shoulders brushing. “Are we… Are we alright?”

“Yes, Athos. We’re alright.” d’Artagnan smiled and leaned over to press a kiss to the corner of Athos’s mouth. It made the tension bleed out of Athos and the knot in d’Artagnan’s chest untied itself as he threaded his fingers through Athos’s hair. He’d missed this. He’d missed the closeness that their fight had caused him to lose. He pulled back and brushed their noses together. “Let’s get to bed.”


End file.
